Saturday, August 25, 2012
Burning TV future
She knew that today, this sun will break into mercury bits
And plop on her window like confetti flakes, licking fire, rolling death. Steaming from the edges.
She walks out to seep in the cracked sky. She could smell, along with the diesel, someone was burning her past.
Once she wanted that, now she would like to reclaim it.
She ran and ran and ran and ran. To find something that could change it. But what can be done now, when it has all gone? And words have hurdled into a language that rams into your grammar and puts explosives in its G-spot.
This time lurches up like a drunken slob.
She could taste melting liquorices in the air.
Bats fluttering with a bandana and her flesh , whiskers to be peeled.
Her world switches back to a static noise.
Somebody has turned off the TV.